It is 10:22 as I type this. I am feverishly working on a paper that is due at midnight – or 1am, depending on what time it is in Arizona. Let’s go with midnight just to be safe. I looked at the syllabus just to check a minor point – and realized I’ve been working for the last 3 hours on the WRONG THING. I can salvage about half of what I’ve already done, because I’m clever that way and I’m also full of shit, so the paper would be 70% fertilizer no matter the topic.
But I thought I’d be finished in about 20 minutes. I really, really need some sleep. As in, more than 4 hours of sleep and I have to be at work at 6am. As in, I can’t be late. Because if I’m late, I can’t leave on time and if I don’t leave on time, I’ll be late to another appointment in the afternoon, which will annoy pretty much everyone involved.
(For the uninitiated, #FML is twitter-speak for Fuck My Life. Also? Don’t follow me on Twitter. I never use it and you’ll die of encephalobrainfuckitis before I tweet again)